Warden's Dream
by Showers' Inc
Summary: One-shot. A short, alternate story of the Fade (Origins, during "The Broken Circle"), if Warden Sophia Cousland was found after her companions woke from their dreams. Sten, Wynne, and Alistair travel through the Fade to free her of her own elaborate dream, caused by the sloth demon. Implications of (F)Warden/Alistair pairing. (Cover image courtesy of Dragon Age Wiki)


**Author's Note: **This one-shot is based off of a dream I had about one of my human noble origins, Sophia Cousland. The Fade style is a bit more reminiscent of _Dragon Age: The Calling_ storytelling, though it's not necessary to read the book to understand the story. It is an alternate event to the original Fade experience in _Origins_.

**Disclaimer:** Ownership of _Dragon Age: Origins _and all of the characters within are credited to BioWare and their creators (and thank you for creating them!). I am merely a great appreciator of this game series. I hope you enjoy it!

**_Warden's Dream_**

Castle Cousland sat in the bright marshes, a gray stone beacon in the lush green landscape. Wynne inhaled deeply, catching the scent of saltwater from the Waking Sea. The elderly mage knew of the lands of Highever, but never had the chance to witness them in her lifetime. The traveling route they walked turned from packed dirt to smooth stone as they neared the great structure.

Beside her, Alistair looked up at the castle in a forced calm. The man had been slightly disoriented since his own experiences in the Fade. Watching his sister and nieces and nephews turn into monsters before his eyes wounded him beyond physically. He seemed to mutter occasionally, reminding himself that what they saw wasn't real. Truthfully, Wynne had to do the same thing after seeing the dead apprentices rise from the ground around her. It was somewhat shameful to admit that she desired nothing more than to stay in her dream, to live with those she failed and atone for her short-comings. Had it not been for Sten convincing her otherwise, perhaps she would have. The world outside was harsh, cold, with even more people to let down … but at least it was real.

Sten made no mention of what he experienced in his dream. Wynne knew without asking that none of them would truly know his experience.

The sky was an unnaturally bright blue with pure white clouds rolling lazily overhead, peaceful and light. Wynne was surprised to see such a calming environment in the Fade. It was a place that granted the dreamer's greatest wishes. From what the mage knew of the younger Cousland, this was how she wanted to remember her home.

As they neared the gates of Castle Cousland, the blast of a horn startled her and Alistair. Sten merely looked upwards, seeking the source with disturbance with passive annoyance. The three travelers stopped on the path, catching movement in the battlements above them. Alistair's hand instinctually went behind his back to grip his longsword, ready to defend. The horn sounded once more as one of the solid wooden gates swung open. Four guardsmen stood on the other side of the gate, their blades sheathed and standing to attention.

"The lord of Highever approaches!" one called before the other three began to trot out to meet them.

Wynne loosened her grip on her staff as the guards drew near, stopping just short of the three. They seemed like young men, and clearly excited about their arrival, whatever the reason. In no way did they pose a threat, but the confusion caused by their approach was clear on Alistair's face as they saluted him.

"How was your journey, lord?" the nearest man asked. "All well, I hope?"

The Grey Warden looked utterly baffled as the guard looked to him expectantly. Wynne nudged him just slightly in the side, bringing him to a stammering attention. She had no idea what was going on, either, but apparently these men recognized Alistair … and not acting according to the dream would guarantee more battles against demons.

"M'Lord?" the lead guard repeated, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Still obviously confused by the exchange, Alistair cleared his throat. "Oh, ah … yes! Yes, quite … fair. How—how bids Highever?"

"Quite well, sir. Ser Fergus brings news from Amaranthine shortly, the teyrn and teyrna are preparing for their next trek to Orlais shortly. Though they were planning on waiting to leave until your return … We did not expect your return so soon, sir."

"Well, plans change, I suppose," Alistair attempted to joke.

Sten fought to stifle an irritated groan, which caught the attention of the lead guard. As if noticing the large Qunari for the first time, the man's eyes widened in surprise. It took a moment for the lead guard to compose himself, taking a reflexive step back. Wynne noticed the edges of the great soldier's mouth turn up. He was always amused by people's first reactions to him.

"I see you've brought fellow travelers, sir," the guard pointed out hesitantly, looking to Alistair for reassurance.

"Oh, yes, they are some old friends … from Denerim," Alistair stumbled. "They came to visit the Couslands as well. Sten, of the Qunari, and Wynne, of the Circle."

"Of course. Greetings. The Couslands are near the castle, if you would follow me."

The lead guard gestured for the other guards to step away as they came through the gate. Alistair threw a wide-eyed look in Wynne's direction as the guards bowed to him. Wynne had no other reaction than to shake her head. Sten, however, seemed unperturbed by the show before him. In all actuality, Wynne thought he looked bored.

* * *

On the other side of the gates, the travelers stepped into a bustling castle ground. Stable boys brushed dozens of horses to their left. Craftsmen shouted and joked among themselves as they worked on various projects under cloth awnings. Excitedly, children trotted across the paths, playing games and giggling. The courtyard of the teyrn's estate was bright with life, sound, and movement.

Alistair never saw Highever himself before he was recruited into the Grey Wardens. He wasn't sure if the place was so warm and cheerful. The only stories he had heard were those Sophie vaguely told of Rendon Howe's massacre. Other than the vaguest details, his fellow Grey Warden never mentioned her home, but there were nights where she stared off into the darkness, or focused intently on the flames of their camp fires. Her Mabari, Gatsby, would lie beside her protectively then, whining occasionally. It was plain that the two missed their home greatly, and he could sympathize.

But here, as they walked along a path to the left of the main castle, he couldn't deny his bewilderment. What was Sophie's dream, exactly? Why in the Maker's name would he be called "lord" here? Wynne explained that the demons of the Fade adapted themselves to sleepers' dreams, trying their best to convince the dreamer to stay. If that was the case, Sophie's dream seemed more elaborate than his by leaps and bounds. He was uncertain if he should feel slightly embarrassed by the observation. Did he really succumb to the demons so easily—?

The calling of his name snapped him back into the moment. An older man came up to the three of them, smiling and spreading his arms to Alistair. The lead guard nodded and slipped away quietly as the man embraced the Grey Warden with a laugh, thumping his back heartily before pulling back.

"Welcome home, m'boy!" he said happily. "Sophie said you would be gone to Denerim for at least a few more weeks."

"We, uh, decided to return early," Alistair explained lamely, looking to Wynne for support.

"And who are your friends?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Teyrn Cousland," Wynne cut in. "We're friends from Denerim. I am Wynne and this is Sten. We actually traveled with your daughter for a time. Thank you for allowing us here."

"Of course. But please call me Bryce. Any friends of my daughter are friends of Highever. She's told us several stories about the people she's met in her travels. I admit to looking forward to meeting a Qunari. Proud, strong people to be certain."

Sten remained quiet as he shook the teyrn's hand, though the slightest hint of a smile played on his lips once more. Bryce Cousland continued chatting casually as they started to walk down another path. Alistair felt an unexplained closeness to the man, as if they had known each other for years. Maybe in this world they had, for whatever reason …

Cool shadows bathed their path as they went on. Bright, festive-looking flowers grew on trimmed bushes around them. It was an obvious place of comfort, of peace. If this had been Sophie's true outcome … Alistair felt a pang of sadness as he looked around them. Questioning the outcome of anything in their lives was ridiculous. He and Sophie were Grey Wardens, the protectors of Ferelden from the darkspawn. Still, the rough hands they were dealt made the urge to give into these dreams tempting.

Behind the castle, a glistening pond reflected the clear sunlight. Laughs and squeals could be heard from the dock leading to it. Bryce smiled widely as the neared the pond. A deep bark was barely enough warning before a furry mass barreled into Alistair, pitching him off-balance. The startled man and thrilled beast dropped to the ground. He threw his hands up to dodge the onslaught of licking from the Mabari.

"Oy, Gatsby!" he exclaimed. "Get off me!"

"Gatsby, come away from him!" a stern voice called. "Leave the man be, will you?"

The Mabari pulled away reluctantly as an older woman approached. Eleanor Cousland looked surprisingly similar to Sophie, save for her eyes and graying hair. Her eyes were exactly the same as her father's, and Sophie's dark blonde hair lay wild around her shoulders, unlike her mother's formal hairdo.

"Teyrna Cousland," Alistair sighed as he stood up.

"Such formalities from this one today!" Bryce laughed. "He acts like he doesn't even recognize us."

"Oh, I'm sure he's been distracted, dear," Eleanor answered as she hugged Alistair close to her. "Hopefully no one's spoiled it for you. No changes for the time being, but Sophie's been insisting it's not to happen until you came home."

"Mother," a gentle voice scolded. "You just spoiled it yourself."

Alistair stopped in his tracks as Sophia Cousland came up behind her mother. His fellow Warden looked the same as she would in the waking world. Her blonde hair was damp from water, curling in tendrils down to her shoulders. Her eyes looked into his own, and he saw the purest happiness there, an overwhelming contentment. The usual chainmail armor was replaced with a simple dress of royal blue. Alistair realized she was almost exactly as he pictured her without all of her equipment … save for the heavily swollen belly that protruded in front of her. Sophie kept her right hand on the bulge of her stomach, a typical position one would take in her situation. But here, now, was Sophie really … pregnant?

Before he could make any movement toward her, two small boys appeared behind her. Dripping wet with dark blonde hair plastered to their heads, each boy hugged one of Alistair's legs, exclaiming happily. Their eyes were shaped like Sophie's, but their color was shockingly familiar. And their noses fit his nearly identically (though his had been broken here and there over his years of training). It was unmistakable. The two boys attached to him looked just as he did as a small boy.

Alistair reached down and put a tentative hand on each of their heads. Touching them sent a surge of pride and happiness through him. Overwhelming love came to him as he gently pressed the two against his form, as if he had known them their entire lives. Logic told him once again none of this was real. That the demons in this plane were playing tricks on them and nothing more. But everything else in him told him … _these were his boys_.

"Duncan, Cailan," he laughed. Surprise came across his face for a moment from how quickly he recalled these two boys' names. But these were his sons. Of course he knew their names … "How have you been for your mother?"

"Well, Cailan has been collecting frogs in his bedroom again," Sophie sighed as she walked up to stand beside him. "I told him a thousand times that Morrigan never actually turned anyone into a frog, but he seems to be stuck on a certain story his _father _told him."

"Because I was trying to save the soldiers from Morrigan!" the boy with slightly longer hair exclaimed. Cailan was his wandering soul, the one who got lost in thought and adventures he created based off the incredible stories of the Grey Wardens. "She'll turn them into stew and eat them for dinner, right, Papa?"

Alistair had to laugh as the other boy tugged gently on his hand. Duncan, his little warrior, who had a strange obsession with sword and shield techniques. Several afternoons were spent out on the grounds with wooden equipment, practicing his cuts and dodges. He insisted his hair be cut short, like his father's.

"Papa, Granddad got me a shield that looks just like yours! Can we practice with it? Please?"

Young Duncan took their stories of the Grey Wardens to heart, dreaming of becoming part of the order. A part of the man was proud that his son wanted to be involved in something he was such a big part of … another part of him hoped that he would never have to experience what he and his mother did.

"Of course, Duncan," Alistair laughed, ruffling the boy's short blond hair.

"All right, you two, go on back to the pond," Sophie cut in, patting the boys' backs. "You'll have plenty of time with your father later."

The boys groaned, but obeyed their mother's suggestion. As the two went off to join their grandparents by the water, Sophie stepped closer to Alistair with a small smile on her face. Instinctually, Alistair reached up to put his hand on Sophie's cheek, running his thumb gently under her eye.

"Hello, love," he said softly, his feelings strangely overwhelming.

Bewilderment came over him as Sophie's lips met his own. His mind struggled to make sense of this world. This was the first time he and Sophie had kissed, though his memories struggled to tell him otherwise. Admittedly, he thought more than once about what it would be like to kiss his fellow Warden, but he never felt like it was the right moment. On top of that, he wasn't sure those feelings were reciprocated. The Blight looming over their heads made it difficult to think of much else …

The Blight … Saving Ferelden … All of it came into his mind again, reminding him that these dreams weren't real, that they had to find a way out of her. Here, though, with his arms around this woman, he knew how much he loved her. Sophie was the most important person to him and she would always remain that way. They were Grey Wardens, relying on each other as they fought … his best friend, the mother of his children. This woman was everything.

Alistair's hand drifted down to her stomach, a swelling sense of pride taking over him as he touched her.

"Cailan is still convinced it's twin boys," Sophie giggled happily. "Mother is still hoping for a granddaughter."

"Doesn't matter much," Alistair answered. "I just hope if it is a girl, she looks like you. Two little Alistairs are enough, if you ask me."

His wife laughed. "Well, I like them all the same." She finally looked past him to his fellow travelers and exclaimed in surprise. "Wynne! Sten!"

Wynne took the woman's hug with slight wariness, chancing another look in Alistair's direction. As if a children being caught stealing sweets, the Grey Warden couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes. Sophie made no attempt to touch Sten, but beamed in the Qunari's direction.

"I'm so sorry I didn't notice you!" she said apologetically. "The boys and I were so excited to see Alistair … Did he find you two in Denerim? Last I heard, Sten, you were headed for Seheron. And Wynne, I thought you were heading back to Lake Calenhad to help with the Circle."

"Sophie," Wynne started carefully. "You … recognize us?"

"Of course I do! Not every person helps to stop a Blight with the Grey Wardens, my friend. It's been so long since I've seen all of you. Oghren, Morrigan, Zevran, Leliana …"

"Perhaps it's my old age, but can you tell me what happened with the Blight? How did you come to be here with your family?"

Sophie seemed confused by the question for a moment, but sighed. "Well, after we helped the mages at the tower, we went to Redcliffe to help Arl Eamon. Then we went to Denerim to stop Loghain taking control of Ferelden. He was advocating to act in place of Anora until the Blight was over. Since we're Grey Wardens, they let Alistair and I speak. It took some convincing, and a lot of influence from Arl Eamon and the other people we helped, but the Landsmeet agreed to give temporary control to the Wardens. Loghain was locked up after he tried to attack us after the meeting, saying that we were betrayers of our country. Anora held her place while we went to Fort Drakon, where the Archdemon had settled in.

"Morrigan was the one who realized the Archdemon needed a vessel, a Grey Warden to take in its power so it didn't destroy everything around it. I volunteered myself, but once the battle happened—" She smacked Alistair's chest plate lightly. "This damned fool took off straight at it, saying that he would do anything to keep me alive."

"Oghren had a hold of you," Wynne continued, surprised that she remembered these details. "Alistair had asked us to hold you back before we got to the Archdemon, to save you."

"But you were right behind me," Alistair sighed.

"You know better than anyone that I'm not one to listen to orders, especially ones I don't like to hear," Sophie grinned. "So we attacked it simultaneously. And the power went through both of us when the Archdemon died."

"Wynne was able to cast a glyph spell on both of us."

Sophie nodded. "We were trapped in the Fade for ten weeks, if I remember correctly. Wynne and the Circle cast different rituals and spells to bring both of us back. The second Alistair was able to walk, he came into my room and asked me to marry him." She took Alistair's hand and smiled. "And naturally, I said yes. We were in Denerim, so they gathered the Landsmeet again, and Eamon offered Alistair's name to become king of Ferelden, since he's apparently the last remaining Theirin heir. Loghain was exiled, Alistair decided to turn down taking the throne, and Anora took over as queen again. We stayed in Denerim for about five years to help with rebuilding after the Blight. Anora even elected Alistair and me into her court as advisors.

"While we were there, a small group of rangers had found Highever, shortly after Duncan and I left. Miracle of chance was that my mother had fended off the attackers long enough to keep Father alive. We lost Oriana and Oren, my sister-in-law and nephew, but at least we didn't lose all of my family. My brother Fergus appeared in Denerim after he was injured pretty severely in the Wilds, so he came with us to Highever."

She looked beyond the pond, up a grassy hill with a single tree at its top peeking up above the castle walls. "We put Duncan to rest up on the highest hill before the coast. His shield and daggers are buried under the tree in a beautiful glass case. The headstone has engraving that glows on clear nights, thanks to the mages. I think he would like it."

"Simple, but always with a bit of flourish," Alistair chuckled. "Very much like Duncan."

"It was mostly my father's and your doing, since the two of you knew him best. Shortly after we settled here, we found out I was to have a baby. Our wedding was in Redcliffe a few years beforehand, but we thought we would never actually get pregnant. One Grey Warden has a hard enough time conceiving, so with two of us …" Sophie trailed off, placing her free hand on her swollen belly. "I like to think it's a combination of Duncan's hand and Wynne's spirit that helped us."

"My spirit?" Wynne blurted out. "How do you know of my spirit?"

"I met it in the Fade," Sophie explained. "It helped me through some of my nightmares. In a way, it explained that helping me would help you. So it visited me while you slept. It took a shine to Alistair and me, because you cared about us so much. I think the spirit not alone helped to wake us up, but it helped us have children."

"Amazing …"

The Grey Warden laughed lightly. "Don't worry, Wynne. It still prefers you. Apparently, you're much more peaceful. I'm too frantic and emotional for its liking. So, since Alistair is the main advisor of the Grey Wardens at the queen's court, he tends to frequent Denerim, but we both decided Highever would be the best place to raise the boys. They would be better off growing up away from all of the politics, at least until they're old enough to understand it. Especially being the sons of a Theirin. Though I'm sure Alistair gets tired of the traveling."

"_Parshaara_," Sten snapped suddenly, causing the other three to jump slightly. The Qunari had been silent for almost their entire exchange, but now his face showed irritation. "This is foolish. You must tell her, so we can continue on with our task."

"Tell me what?" Sophie said with a slight laugh.

"I am surprised a woman with such high regard would be overcome by such a mundane fantasy."

The Grey Warden's eyebrows furrowed, her eyes darkening. "What are you talking about?"

"You would settle to birth children and hide away?"

"I've settled to take care of my family. I did my duties in our war. We sacrificed too much not to deserve some happiness—"

"False happiness," Sten cut her off. "If you truly believe you sacrificed enough, then you have earned just a fate in the Fade."

The phrase gave her pause. "The Fade?"

"Sten," Alistair claimed. "Please …"

"No, allow him to speak," Sophie said angrily, glaring in Sten's direction. "I would like to know why Sten believes I haven't earned this life."

"You cannot a life which does not exist," Sten answered in his usual calm voice, though his own anger gave it an edge. "The Warden I followed here would have more sense about her."

"You think to speak to me this way? I've done nothing to warrant this reaction from you!"

"Correct, you have done nothing, which is precisely the problem."

"Sten, stop," Wynne ordered. "This is not—"

"She has been through enough to know that her ending is not to be this way," Sten continued, looking straight into the Grey Warden's eyes. "To know suffering as you have, you should know happy endings do not exist. Certainly not ones so impossible."

Before anyone could react, Sophie's fist made hard contact with Sten's jaw. The Qunari hardly responded to the hit, merely blinking. Pulling back again, she struck him once more with all of her force. A thin trail of blood came from Sten's mouth, and he made no effort to wipe it away, refusing to break his eye contact with her. Sophie breathed heavily, her fists balled up at her side.

"You have no right," she whispered.

"_Meravas_ … you feel it," the Qunari replied.

* * *

"Pup?" Bryce Cousland's voice came from behind them.

Sophie didn't dare look away from Sten, her breathing nearing hysterics. The damned stubborn Qunari couldn't accept her life, simply because she wanted to leave the memories of the Blight behind her. She wanted to forget, to bask in the happiness that engulfed her being here. Here, with her family, her home, and her children … The memories of the Blight were hazy, already ebbing away from her consciousness. Even when she slept—

When had she slept? A deep roar in the deep recesses of her mind seemed to rumble into her thoughts. The goose bumps on her arms were instantaneous. _The Archdemon_. Its guttural call of hatred, of want to destroy the land with its darkness. She heard it every night in her sleep, ever since she became a Grey Warden. But she hadn't heard or seen the Archdemon in what felt like an eternity …

Her father walked up to stand beside her with her mother close behind. Duncan and Cailan trailed after their grandmother, once again dripping wet from the pond. Gatsby, her Mabari, trotted up to the group, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in a happy expression. His expression quickly dissolved as he neared his master, sensing something in the woman.

"Is everything all right, dear?" Eleanor asked softly. "You seem upset."

Finally, Sophie broke her gaze from Sten. Gatsby nudged his nose against her fist, a soft whine escaping his throat. Her fingers dragged lightly over the fur on the top of his head, allowing her thoughts to consume her for a moment. Eleanor broke her concentration as she placed a hand on her daughter's arm. Sophie looked up in her direction, a tight smile on her lips.

"I'm sorry," she answered in a shaky voice. "We were just … discussing some news in Denerim. Nothing to worry about. Mother, would you—would you mind taking Cailan and Duncan inside? You two need a bath after playing in the pond."

The boys groaned loudly, each pressing themselves into Alistair's legs once more.

"Papa, do we have to?" Duncan begged, looking to his father.

"Do as your mother says, my boys," the man responded sadly, chancing a look in Sophie's direction. Much like her, he was having problems looking at the two blond boys.

"Come on, then, boys," Eleanor Cousland laughed. "Dinner will be ready by the time you're done with baths."

"Then sword lessons!" Cailan exclaimed. "Papa and Granddad promised!"

Duncan and Cailan hugged their parents once more before taking Eleanor's hands. Sophie focused intently on their backs as the three began to walk away. Cailan was just slightly taller than Duncan, showing the first sign of their next growth spurt. They would grow up to be such handsome boys … Their giggles sent another wave of goose bumps over her skin as the three of them went around the path toward the castle. A tree's shade on the path gently faded their figures from her view.

"Are you sure you're well, Pup?" her father asked, putting a hand on her back.

"Yes," Sophie sighed, feeling her voice catch. "I will be."

"Well, we'll see you all inside, then. Just remember, with old Nan gone, your mother's taken to ordering everyone inside on time." The man extended a hand to Alistair, grinning. "Good to see you home, son."

"Thank you, Bryce," Alistair answered quietly, trying his best to return the smile.

Bryce Cousland hugged his daughter closely before turning to walk away. Sophie closed her eyes momentarily, locking as much of her father to memory as she could. His graying hair, the wrinkles around his mouth from his hearty laughter, his piercing blue eyes that always carried so much emotion … As he continued down the path, Sophie wanted to call to him, beg his forgiveness for failing him and her mother, beg to have him stay with her, just for a little longer—

"Father!" she called.

The teyrn of Highever paused in his walk, looking to his daughter. "Yes, Pup?"

"I—I love you."

"I love you, too, Sophie." She could see his smile, but not his eyes. "See you soon, eh?"

He waved before continuing on his way. Sophie raised her hand to wave back, a few stray tears breaking away from her lashes as the tree's shade swallowed her father's form. Now, she stood with Alistair, Sten, Wynne, and even Gatsby watching her silently.

"See you soon," she uttered softly.

Once more, her hands drifted to the swollen belly before her, caressing it gently for a moment.

"I'm so sorry."

With that, she closed her eyes. The tears threatened to fall as she opened them again, her gauntleted hands resting over her chainmail. Another roar came into her mind as a deep laugh floated through her consciousness. The sloth demon. Hazy images floated around her as her companions waited. The Fade. Sten had spoken the truth.

A fantasy, a lie … a happy ending that was impossible to exist.

Gatsby whined at her side once more, the Mabari understanding that something was not the same. The Grey Warden patted the top of his head for a moment, hoping the gesture was somehow reassuring to her hound. Her own reassurance came from the feel of her two blades in her hands, unsheathed from her back and glinting in the light of the Fade. Grip tightening, she turned to walk down a worn path, knowing she would find her destination.

Alistair, Wynne, and Sten followed her without a word.


End file.
